Chapter 12
Brock
H oly shit.
I walked into Malice MMA a half hour early for my training session, hoping to spend some time with Dani. I didn’t realize she would be training right now. She had her long hair wrapped into a tight braid down her back. Although it never sat still long enough to lay flat. She was practicing her technique with Nate. He had pads that looked like baseball gloves on his hands, and she was striking them so fast my eyes could barely track it.
Her face was shiny with sweat, her little black shorts had ridden up to the crux of her thighs and there was a look of pure determination on her face. She was focused, every muscle working in unison, every strike so precise and fluid I couldn’t look away. I leaned against the wall and watched. Fucking hell, she was something else. I couldn’t have dropped the smile from my face if I’d wanted to. This woman was willing to bleed and sweat and suffer to get what she wanted and for some reason one of the things she wanted was me. I was a lucky bastard.
Without warning, she planted one of her feet sideways and pulled back with a roundhouse kick, stopping the motion with her foot just an inch off Nate’s cheek. The muscles in her legs stood out even with her pale skin, each one flowing into the next like water. She was a fucking work of art, and I still couldn’t believe she was mine.
“Alright, I get it, that’s enough for today,” Nate said, shoving her foot aside. She danced back on her toes, shaking her arms out, then grabbed a towel and wiped herself down.
I moved up behind her and wrapped my arms around her middle. I couldn’t help it. There was a fifty-fifty shot that I would end up getting elbowed in the face, but it was worth it. She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’m all sweaty.”
I kissed her neck. “I know.” I didn’t care. I was obsessed with this girl. Every move she made entranced me. I was falling hard and fast. Although I’d had a hell of a head start. The reality of it may have only just started, but this had been my fantasy for a hell of a long time.
We’d gone to the hospital together the day before to pick up Josh, not thinking of what it might look like. Luckily, he had accepted our excuse that we were training together without question, not noticing the red spots on Dani’s neck where my stubble had abraded her skin. What had happened with Josh was minor in terms of work injuries for a cop. Still, I hated that I hadn’t been there when it happened. My leg was getting better with each session. Dani had told me we could move from resistance bands to proper weights next week. Assuming we did the workouts and not just fucked like bunnies every time we saw each other. I had to get back to work, but my priorities were starting to split between my partner and my girl.
The right thing to do would be to tell him everything. Well, not everything. The man didn’t need to know the ins and outs of what I’d done to his sister. I should be telling him that our spending time together had led to more than a client-trainer relationship. I should have told him that I intended to stick around, that she wasn’t just a fling for me. I should have told her that a part of me had started falling for her more than a decade ago and that I was falling faster now. I didn’t tell him any of that. I told myself it was because he had just gotten hurt. That I should wait until he was a hundred percent before we had this conversation. My cowardice sat heavily in my gut. I knew it weighed on Dani, too, and she had enough on her plate as it was.
That horrible feeling had a way of evaporating when I saw her. I felt giddy with my crush becoming a reality. Ready to hide out in a cave and spend every second of every day on my knees, worshiping at the altar of Dani Keen. I knew her confidence had been shaken back in the day. If I’d gone to the same high school and she’d had anyone who so much as looked at her sideways, they would have ended up with my foot in their ass. Maybe it was better I hadn’t been there. I’d never want anything bad to happen to my girl, but through all the bull shit of life as a teenager, she developed a determination and grit that I was jealous of. It also led to her discovering a passion for fitness, health and kicking ass.
She didn’t need me to protect her or save her. She did it for herself. And in a few short weeks, I was going to stand ringside while she fulfilled the goal of her first amateur fight. In the few relationships I had ever had, everything worked around my schedule. Being a cop sometimes meant long days and dangerous situations. Working nights or weekends. Now, I was behind a desk. My job had become predictable and mundane. It was my turn to prioritize someone else. To make sure every hour of sleep and every meal got her closer to her goals.
I was here for it. I was excited about it. If she asked me to, I’d put on an apron and spend my days grilling salmon, making protein shakes, and washing her gym clothes. I was all in. I was more than all in. I just wasn’t sure how to tell Josh that.